


Coping Mechanisms

by TheDarknessConsumes



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-21 17:40:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12462645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDarknessConsumes/pseuds/TheDarknessConsumes
Summary: Jacob Frye attempts to cope with the death of his father in his own way, unknowingly changing the entire foundation of his relationship with his twin.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I decided to write something up on the fly after playing AC: Syndicate; I do hope it isn't as bad as I feel it may be, but I haven't written anything in a fair while. On that note it is Evie/Jacob, so consider yourself warned. Enjoy! :)

Jacob Frye was a dab hand at interrogation.

Admittedly, he may have been just a _tad_ more impulsive than his sister, however what he lacked in subtlety he more than made up for in determination.

“Something _you,_ my dear friend, are about to experience first-hand if you don’t _tell me_ where the drugs are _coming from._ ” He growled, fidgeting as he stalked around the only other occupant of the room.

Jacob hadn’t been having a good month, thus far; between his father’s death and the sudden influx of Templar reinforcements the younger Frye twin had been having a downright _abysmal_ month. “And yet, here I have the perfect opportunity to vent some of that stress, provided you do stay silent and refuse to tell me. So are you going to keep being clever or are you going to reveal your secrets?”

As he pulled the makeshift gag from the man’s face the impulsive Assassin already knew that he wasn’t going to like the answer. “I-I’ll tell you everything! Just, p-please, let me go!”

“Oh, how marvellous.” He intoned drolly, stalking around the chair bound kidnappee. “Well, do go on?”

The death of Ethan Frye hadn’t been sudden; weeks of suffering from sickness had eventually culminated in the man’s demise, but not before he had been able to get his affairs in order, arranging both his estate and his will efficiently and concisely despite the clear nature of his fate.

Evie had been able to hide her grief, pushing it down and showing the world a facade of stoic professionalism.

Jacob... Was a little less professional. “I-It’s the new pub over on Chichester! The owner’s a part of some gang that’s sponsoring the distribution!”

“Is that so?” He mused, dropping his knife back on the table and licking his lips. “Well, that’s such a shame. You see, I do so hate being left out in the cold when it comes to entertainment in _my_ town. So I’m going to have to pop in for a little chat.”

“I do-“ Anything else that the thug may have had to say was abruptly cut off with the edge of his knife, nimble fingers flicking the blade the man’s throat before he could even finish his sentence.

“The fucking pub.” He murmured, a vague sense of embarrassment suffusing him. “I can’t believe I didn’t check the fucking pub first.”

Embarrassment gave way to a hot wash of anger and Jacob stalked away from the body, content in the knowledge that no-one would know he had ever been there. In truth the already hot-headed young man hadn’t exactly been in the right headspace these past few days, a series of dead ends only compounding on the bitter rage already rising inside of him.

Still, he felt as though with this transgression he may finally be approaching the resolution of this particular mission. Crawley wasn’t exactly the largest of places, and the few ‘missions’ that he and his sister did come across were generally sorted out quickly enough.

At the thought of his sister Jacob frowned, wondering if perhaps he should tell her the truth; through thick and thin the two of them had always had one another’s back, counting on their sibling to help them out when they needed it; on this particular case, however, Jacob had felt the need to go alone.

Was he trying to earn his father’s approval from beyond the grave, or perhaps seeking some form of independence from his sister’s constant looming shadow?

Strangely he had never felt truly jealous of the favouritism shown towards Evie and even now there was no bitterness towards her, save for the small sense of ire he felt as he imagined her greeting the guests to their father’s wake, sternly telling him to stop adjusting his suit and start acting serious.

“Pah!” Jacob grimaced, brushing his hands together and pulling himself up out of the sewer.  “Such maudlin thoughts. Maybe I’m more like father than I first thought?” He mused, bemused. “Still...”

His gaze set, firmly locked onto the deep red ox head displayed overhead. “...I’m at least a damn sight better at taking out crowds.”

With a reflexive flex of his wrist the reckless Frye stepped towards the pub.

-X- -X-

Evie awkwardly adjusted her dress, nose scrunching in distaste as the ruffled material brushed the floor slightly. “I am sorry, father, but I sincerely hope you don’t mind if I’m not pleased to be wearing this.” She spoke to the air, brow furrowing as only silence greeted her. _‘And now I’m speaking to the sky. I hope I don’t pick up any more of his bad habits. Father would-‘_

“Right then.” Brushing her hands clear of imaginary dirt, the older Frye twin stared at herself in the mirror, a critical eye examining the pitch-black dress and pristine hair pins holding together her outfit and frowning distastefully. “Time to clean up, I suppose.” She spoke once more, taking solace in the answering silence.

“And on that note, where the hell is Jacob?”

-X- -X-

Despite years of training under a harsh taskmaster, Jacob still felt the hit as another of the thugs walloped him, knocking the broad-shouldered brawler back into a nearby table and earning a grimace. “Best two out of three.” He jabbed at his current opponent, grinning viciously as the bald man’s nose crunched beneath his fist. “That’s a bit better.”

Even as he ran his mouth however he was twisting, turning to duck beneath a wide hook and slam his brass knuckles into another man’s unprotected torso and kick the last dazed combatant in the jaw.

“You know, this day is getting so much better. Honestly, you have no idea how much I needed this.” He confessed, rubbing at his sore jaw even as he continued to grin.

The other men on the floor groaned in response, failing to climb to their feet.

After a moment Jacob shrugged, spinning on his heel just in time to catch the club coming his way right across the temple.

_“Sloppy, Assassin.”_ A distant voice sounded, clucking their tongue in disapproval as his vision darkened. _“Very slo-“_

Jacob’s eyes shot back open. “Oh, now that’s just _unsporting_.” He groaned in annoyance, absently feeling the rope against his skin as he took in his location; the pub hadn’t changed much since his brief sojourn into the land of dreams, chairs toppled and tables overturned, glasses smashed and shattered against the walls and the stains of wine and whiskey clear in the candlelight. “What a waste.” He sighed.

“Indeed.” A decidedly villainous voice drawled. “But I’m sure some form of recompense can be offered.” It continued, ignoring Jacob’s sigh in response.

“So, you’re the leader of this motley crew of outcasts, scum and assorted misfits, I assume?” He queried nonchalantly, straining against his bonds to take in the suit clad figure.

“You assume correctly.” Again, the person drawled in that cocky tone, and Jacob felt a twinge of irritation in response, even as he stealthily palmed one of his many hidden knives. “But come, Mr. Frye, surely you wouldn’t judge an entrepreneur by the word of just one of his customers?”

For a moment Jacob tensed, narrowing his eyes at his captive. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage, Mr...?”

Short, well cropped hair and clear spectacles framing plain brown eyes greeted him, a small smug smirk playing across thin, worm-like lips. “Come now, do you take me for a fool, Mr. Frye? If I were to tell you my name then you’d just go blabbering to the papers, and I can’t very have that that, now can I?”

The captive assassin relaxed slightly as the unknown spoke, his words making clear that he wasn’t aware of just what Jacob knew. “I see, so then you intend to kill me?” He voiced, affecting a tone of boredom.

The man’s smile didn’t fade at his disrespect, widening, even, in response. “Oh no, no. I know your type, Mr. Frye. So eager and brash, seeking violence and jumping from one thrill to the next; I believe I can find a far better purpose for you than just death.”

He moved as he spoke, and for the first time Jacob caught sight of the needle cradled gingerly in his grasp. “I... See.” He acknowledged slowly, sawing at the by-now-thin twines of rope holding his hands behind his back. “Many thanks, but I do believe that I’ll pass on this little... Experience.”

“I am afraid, Mr. Frye, that you don’t have a choice.” As the man leaned in, grinning eerily in the silhouette cast by the candles around them, Jacob finally moved.

The knife plunged into the man’s throat, a shoddy imitation of his earlier work, however even then the needle continued, jamming into his shoulder.

Jacob grunted, instantly grabbing at the needle and ignoring the now-dead-man’s futile attempts to remove the knife, instead examining the clear vial attached and turning wild eyes to the struggling corpse. “What was that? _What was it?”_

Pale hands fell from the gaping wound, dead eyes staring back at him and earning a hiss of frustration. “ _Damn it.”_ He growled, a faint wobble in his movements as he slipped himself free of the few ropes remaining around his legs. “You...” Already he could feel the ground slipping away and quickly he hopped over the bar, keen gaze catching the slight compression in the wood and quick hands pulling at the cellar door.

He could barely keep himself steady as he pulled the door closed behind him, plunging him into darkness.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, breathing heavily into the all-encompassing blackness around him.

There was a strange notion in the back of his mind that he should have been worried, however as he lay there Jacob couldn’t help feeling a surprising lack of concern, in fact he felt... Surprisingly good.

-X- -X-

The morning came quick, considering the events of the previous night, and Evie sighed as she shifted beneath her covers.

Abruptly the memory of the previous night came to the fore and the young woman shot up, brushing aside her bedding and striding out of her room. “Jacob.” She called, lips pursed as she wandered through their old home, brushing aside nostalgia and difficult memories in favour of trying to find her absent twin. “Jacob?”

By now the older of the two twins had become used to her brother sneaking out overnight, however even so she had expected a little better of him than fleeing in the wake of his own father’s... Wake. The young woman pushed down her emotions, embracing the stoic yet serious demeanour she had grown into and stepping into the hallway.

Her thoughts ground to a halt as she spotted the thin trail of dirt leading from one of the windows in the lounge, trailing through the hallway and up the stairs to the room directly across from her. “ _Jacob.”_ She hissed, slamming the door open and bursting into his room like a spectre of vengeance, unable to contain this small outburst. “Do you have any idea how embarrassed I was last... Night?”

Evie paused, taking in the fully clothed figure shivering against the bed, sweat pouring down his face in rivulets as he squinted against the new source of light. “ _Not so loud, please._ ” He hissed, shielding his eyes with shaky hands.

“Oh, hell,” She hurriedly stepped forward, impressions shattering as she dropped to her knees beside him, cradling him to her chest. “Jacob, stay with me. I need you to stand up. Can you do that?”

There had been nights where her brother had shown up late or, indeed, not shown up at all until early sunrise, however she had never seen him shaking so, pupils dilated as he fervently studied her face. “E-Evie?” He whispered, mindlessly obeying her instructions and leaning on the messy bed beside him. “When did you get here?”

“Hush, Jacob.” She chided, laying him down as gently as possible and rushing into the side room to grab a washcloth. “Focus on staying awake. Who did this to you?”

“I... There was a bar fight and a... Needle? Drat, I think I was poisoned.” He mumbled faintly.

“Alright, just lay there and try to stay awake. I’ll get George and be right back.” She spoke hurriedly, ignoring her current state of undress in favour of grabbing her coat and speeding down the stairs.

By the time the Assassin had returned with their current handler in tow Jacob was asleep, still shaking and still struggling with some unseen nightmare. “What happened?” George started quickly, rushing to the bedside and checking his pulse.

Evie shook her head, lost in the face of their current predicament. “I don’t know, Jacob rushed off during father’s wake and when I awoke this morning he was lying on the floor, struggling to get into bed.”

“I see.” George frowned, studying the young man with a critical eye. “I’ve seen this before. A new drug on the streets-“

“Jacob said something about a needle!” She blurted. “We thought he may have been poisoned.”

George stood back up, sparing a moment to examine Jacob’s shivering form before he turned back to her. “The symptoms should wear off over the next forty-eight hours; from what we’ve managed to glean it seems the effects are both euphoric and highly addictive in turn. Thankfully I doubt this was done willingly and so your brother will make a full recovery.”

Evie breathed a short breath of relief, forcing a smile as she nodded to the senior Assassin. “I see. Is there anything I can do to speed his recovery?”

“Just allow him plenty of rest and ensure he isn’t overheated; in this state he has the potential to become sick far easier.” He informed, patting her on the shoulder sympathetically. “I’ll check back for your next assignment on Thursday. Oh, and... I was sorry to hear about Ethan.”

With a small sigh she saw him to the door, accepting his words of condolence with a weary nod. “Thank you, George. I’ll see you in two days; where are we meeting this time?”

“The train yard; both of you shall be operating in Croydon. I’ll discuss it with you then.”

“Of course. I’ll see you then.” She agreed, quietly closing the door behind him and slumping against the wooden frame. _“From one tragedy to another.”_ She murmured forlornly.

-X- -X-

Jacob’s head was pounding. “Evie!” He called out, shielding his eyes against the glare of the window as he sat up. “Eeeevie!” He wheedled.

“I’m right here, Jacob.” She informed him dryly, dumping the cool wash cloth into a bucket of water. “What is it this time, brother dear?”

Her brother grinned that damned smug grin, clutching his sheets with both hands and staring up at her. “Oh, sister dear, cough, cough, won’t you read me a bedtime story and spoon-feed me some more tomato sou- Ow!” He choked, shielding his face as she threw the wash cloth at him. “That’s not very matronly!”

“Oh, do shut up Jacob.” Despite her biting words Evie’s lips twitched into a smile. “I’m glad that you’re feeling better.”

Jacob chuckled heartily. “I’ll bet. Not looking forward to having to wait on me, eh?” He jabbed, pushing himself up and ignoring the pain echoing through his skull.

Evie huffed, setting herself down on his bed and looking him in the eye. “Jacob, what happened, exactly?” She queried softly.

Her brother paused, raising a hand to rub at his sparse facial hair and lick his suddenly dry lips. “...Well,” He started, glancing out the window almost nervously. “I’m not very good with funerals, as you know? Well, I’d heard that there was a new drug on the streets and decided that I needed _something_ to distract me from, well...” Jacob clicked his tongue. “...Father, you know?”

His sister slowly nodded, grimacing at the reminder.

“I do hope I didn’t upset you too much, running off like that. I honestly thought it’d take a few hours, Crawley isn’t exactly the biggest little village in England after all.”

She knew that underneath all the roguish grins and cocky words this was the closest she’d get to an apology and, with a huff, Evie slapped him on the shoulder. “Just this once I’ll let you off. But don’t keep things from me again.” She warned, a playful smirk gracing her lips.

The twins smiled at one another for a few seconds. “Promise.” He acknowledged ruefully, reaching out to pull her into a one-armed hug.

Evie sighed into his chest, feeling the vague tremor in his arms and relaxing into the shaky but still strong hold. For a moment she contented herself with listening to his heartbeat, taking in the steady staccato of his pulse and glancing up to examine his features.

She and her brother had always had certain differences. She was pale where he was tan and he grew tanner where she merely freckled, his hair was the lighter yet still dark brown of her father whereas hers was the raven-black of her mother.

 The biggest difference to her had always been their eyes, however; hers had always been a deep blue, whereas his were a dark, confounding brown. Sometimes she found herself getting lost in those mischievous eyes.

Beneath her she could feel his heartbeat increasing and Evie glanced up, meeting those dark, ruddy orbs and finding herself unable to look away.

Quickly she shot back to her feet, eyes wide as she registered her own heart rate. “I-“ She paused, examining her brother, lying in his bed with that ponderous befuddlement written across his face, skin clammy and body shaking. “...I do worry about losing you.” She admitted, freckled cheeks colouring with the confession. “More than maybe I should.”

Jacob stared up at her, something tender replacing his previous confusion. “And I you.” He admitted, and she knew just how hard it was for him to admit something like that to her. “Didn’t father use to say that Assassins shouldn’t be distracted by emotional attachments?” He queried sardonically, yet still she found herself examining his every feature.

Evie had always felt like the responsibilities towards the Creed fell to her, that despite her resemblance to her mother she would always be closer to their father than her brother ever could be; and, indeed, despite his appearance, from the crook of his nose to the arc of his brow, despite there being a good deal of features about Jacob Frye that reminded her of their father, he had always been a lot less responsible and incapable of separating himself from his emotions as she had.

Jacob would always care about her, and the thought of that affection sent a strange flutter through her, drawing her breath short and making her ignore their usual byplay in favour of looking at her ill brother in a strange new light that she had always avoided. “...We’re not father.” She confessed, and with that admission it felt as though a weight had been lifted.

“You’ve never...” Jacob trailed off, registering her hand as it brushed across his chest and staring in surprise as his sister lowered her head towards his. “You-“

Her lips were soft.

He wasn’t sure why he’d expected anything different, but for some reason the younger Frye had never considered that his deadly, terrifying sister could possibly be soft or effeminate, even her crushes on one of the neighbour boys seeming a mere passing quirk as opposed to, well, _emotion._

Still, he couldn’t deny that her lips were soft and warm, that her tongue was wet and strong and invasive and that the taste of mint, tea and the faintest hint of sneaked brandy was absolutely all Evie.

Her hesitation began to rise, but before she could truly begin to regret her decision he responded, calloused hands threading through her pitch-black locks to draw her in even closer, his own lips responding to her strength with a kind of languid desperation that just screamed Jacob, even with the undertones of medicine and smoke and whiskey lingering on his breath.

As they pulled away Evie watched her brother’s face with a certain nervousness, her normally well-crafted facade cracking slightly as she spied the barely concealed lust in his gaze. “People will judge.” She spoke softly, because she knew that Jacob _could_ pull off a lie, but he could never hide his true emotions; they would always play across his face like a painted sunset, clear and obvious to even the most clueless of people.

“Fuck them.” He whispered with a familiar ease of disregard that had her blushing up at him beneath fluttering lashes. “ _Ow.”_

Just like that the spell passed and Evie hastily pulled out of his loose grasp, batting at his hands as he struggled to hold onto her and ignoring his protests. “ _You_ are still _sick._ ” She emphasized, raising an eyebrow at his pouting visage and smirking as he slumped back into his covers.

“You always have to ruin my fun.” He whined half-heartedly, smiling slightly as she pressed the cool cloth against his forehead.

Evie hummed, dabbing at the sweat speckling his skin and nodding absently. “Always.” She promised. “Provided you tell me about it first, of course.”

Jacob grinned.

-X- -X-

A lot could change over the course of two days.

Evie stared out of the moving train, tracing the smoke enshrouding London with a wary gaze and grimacing as she caught a whiff of the polluted air. “Worried, dear sister?”

The more responsible of the two turned to regard her brother with a raised eyebrow, gripping the open door with an anxious hold. “Hardly, just... Unsure where to begin.”

Jacob eyed her knowingly, running his tongue along his teeth and looking away. “You’re nervous.” He pointed out smugly.

“No, I- Well, yes.” She admitted. “But I know you’re the same.” She pointed out, grinning as his overconfident smirk dropped. “Don’t deny it, Jacob. You’ve never been too far from Crawley either.”

Her brother pursed his lips, shuffling over to join her at the door and look out over the city. “Maybe so, Evie, but I’m quite happy to be here. Can you say the same?”

Evie glanced away from the oncoming streets, catching his thoughtful frown and lightly jabbing at his torso with her elbow. “I’m here, aren’t I? Everything I want right now is in this city.”

“Now, now, we’re not completely sure that there are any of your precious artefacts _in_ the city yet.” He pointed out, leaning across from her and smirking.

“Hm,” Evie looked her brother in the eye, pulling away from her vantage point and sauntering over to him. “Well, we’ll find out. But there’s more for me in London than just the pieces of Eden.” She purred.

Jacob’s eyes widened and he unconsciously leaned further back, swallowing harshly and meeting her gaze. “O-Oh?” He tried to casually inquire, tipping his flat cap slightly off-kilter as he turned his head.

Apparently her brother was the kind of man that grew nervous when a woman decided to flirt with him, something that hadn’t ceased to amuse her in the single day since her discovery. “Oh, yes. Maybe I’ll find a handsome man to help me look for the piece of Eden. The Assassin based in London, a Mr... Green, was it? Maybe he would-”

A strong arm wrapped itself around her waist and Evie smiled warily, examining his dark gaze with anticipation. “You cheeky minx.” He breathed huskily, ignoring the distant chatter of the city in favour of capturing her lips in a searing kiss.

Apparently another of Jacob’s many character traits was a certain passionate possessiveness that she had never seen him display beyond the many toys they managed to get their hands on from father and George. “ _Ooooooooh_ _yes._ ” She hissed once he had pulled away, lithe fingers gripping at his broad shoulders. “Jacob-“

“Hush now, sister.” His face was intense as he stared down at her, want and need echoing in his voice. “I may have to punish you for that.”

Some part of Evie was prepared for him to follow up on his promise, however as the train slowed to a halt that distant voice that reminded her that she needed to be responsible piped up and she realized that, regrettably, neither of them were truly ready for that step.  “Another day.” She swore, ducking underneath his arms and smirking as he stumbled after her.

“You tease.” He complained half-heartedly, following her off the train and looking around their new home for the days to come. “And on that note; Evie Frye, welcome to Whitechapel.”

Evie rolled her eyes, stalking off the train with a confident gait. “As if you know anything more about London than I do, Jacob. Or are you forgetting that _I_ told you _just_ where we were going to stop?”

Jacob ignored her chiding tone, instead taking in the milling crowd wandering through the station. “I’ve never seen so many people all at once.” He murmured, a fine eye running over the people around them.

His sister slowly nodded, silently concurring as she checked the people around them. ““The churning seas of London”. It’s just the way father described.” She fell silent for a brief moment, paying respects to their father in her mind and brushing aside the usual melancholy that she threatened to fall prey to. “Now, to find Henry Green and formulate a plan of attack against the Templars.”

“Hold on.” Jacob slowed, squinting at her as he examined her features. “We’re going looking for this “ _Mr. Green?”_ I didn’t agree to that!” He huffed.

Evie blinked, shaking her head in disbelief as she took in his pursed lips and shuffling gait. “Hold on, are you- Are you jealous?” She spluttered, grinning as he froze in his tracks. “Three times I’ve mentioned this fellow, but it didn’t even register until I mentioned him in the train cart, did it?” She crowed, an overwhelming sense of amusement flowing through her. “Oh, this is _good_.”

With a grunt he pulled her aside, pushing her up against one of the walls nearby and earning a startled gasp. _“Maybe I’m a jealous fellow.”_ He mumbled, breath hot and heavy against her neck. _“But can you blame me, Evie? When you send me up the wall and then just wander off like that?”_

Evie gulped, losing herself in his gaze and experiencing stirrings befitting less a sister to her brother than a woman to a man. “I...” For once the intelligent young woman found herself at a loss for words.

As quickly as the moment had come it was gone, however, her brother pulling away with a mischievous smirk and a tip of his hat. “Two can play at that game.” He chuckled, and she gaped for a second as it registered than her own twin brother had just managed to dupe her. “Coming, sister dear?” He crooned.

Evie’s jaw tightened as she strode after him, narrowing her eyes as he swung his cap at her. A nimble hand swept across the space between them, grabbing up his hat before he could take it back and tossing it off to the side. “Find a better hat.” She smiled, pausing to watch with him as his most regrettable fashion choice was swept away down the road.

Absently Jacob ran his hands through windswept hair, skipping a step to catch up as she started off back down the road. “Now that’s just not on. _You_ owe me a hat.”

His sister stopped, taking in his pout and tapping at his chin. “A wager, then. First one to the highest vantage point wins; if it’s you then I’ll buy you a new hat.”

Jacob grabbed her fingers. “And if you win?” He voiced, quirking an eyebrow.

She paused, pulling her hand back and humming to herself. “I’ll think of something.” She promised, biting her lower lip as he swallowed in response. “Come on then!”

“Dea-!” His sister’s hurried footsteps carried her away from the station and he gaped, shaking his head and dashing after her. “Now that’s hardly fair, is it!?” He called, earning a barking laugh and an increase in speed from her.

“You’re going to lose again!” She jeered, catapulting herself up a lift and snickering as his cursing filled the air behind her.

Sure enough the younger sibling soon fell behind, unable to match her pace and panting slightly as he climbed onto the roof behind her. “Now that’s just rude, that is.” He chided, earning a disbelieving chuckle.

“Rude or not, I do believe that’s my victory, Jacob.” She pondered, tapping her cheek and offering an impish smirk. “Now the question is, what _do_ I want?” She asked the open air, sidling up to him and stifling another laugh as he hastily back away.

Her brother chuffed, standing atop the rooftops with crossed arms and tsk’ing. “You’re not getting me with that one again, cheeky girl.” He chided, nonetheless licking his lips as she sidled closer.

“And how are you going to stop me, _Jacob?_ ” It was the first time he’d ever heard such a tone placed on his name and coming from her lips. For a moment he was speechless, the only thought passing through his mind a single consideration. _‘Now how can I get her to say my name like that all the time?’_ “Jacob?”

He flinched, taking in her bemused expression and nervously chuckling. “Sorry, I was... Distracted.” He confessed.

Evie turned away with a knowing smile. “We need to find Mr. Green’s shop, first. It was marked on father’s map...” Trailing off, both Assassins glanced at one another and spun, taking in the white-clad figure standing atop the chimney.

“Two Assassins,” The man started, watching them closely. “Equal in height. One male, one female. Two decades old, and those devilish smiles... You must be the Frye twins.” He observed.

Evie’s brow furrowed, scanning over the strange clothing and buckles clearly printed with the insignia of the Assassin’s order. “And you are...?” She queried, fairly certain that she already knew.

“Henry Green at your service.” He confirmed. “I was sorry to hear about your father’s passing.”

“...Thank you.” She acknowledged, failing to notice her brother’s frown as he glanced between the two of them.

“What can you tell us about Crawford Starrick?” Jacob interjected, drawing his sister’s attention to his serious expression and harsh gaze. The intense stare earned a shiver from her, though whether it was excitement or something else she couldn’t quite say.

Perhaps both, even.

“I suppose the council desires news?” Mr. Green spoke up, obviously catching the strange byplay between the two of them if his suspicious frown was anything to go by.

“London must be freed.” She interjected before Jacob could ruin their trip. “To provide a better future for all of its citizens.”

Henry’s face cleared. “Well thank goodness the council saw reason and sent you to aid us.” He sighed.

“YES!” Once more Jacob cut across them and Evie shot him a bemused look, shaking her head at his clueless shrug. “Thank goodness.”

“Unfortunately,” The senior Assassin continued, heedless of their strange behaviour. “I am the bearer of _bad_ news. Today, Starrick sits at the helm of the most sophisticated Templar infrastructure known in the Western world. Every class, every borough, the gangs, the industry; his reach extends all across London.”

Jacob slowly grinned, a Cheshire like expression lacking any of the previous lust he’d displayed almost non-stop over the past two days. “I’ve always thought of myself as a gang leader. Firm but fair, we’ll have uniforms and I’ll unite a mix of disenfranchised outsiders under one name. That’s _it_ , Evie, we can rally them to our side!”

Without prompt a memory from their childhood flitted through her mind’s eye and she met his excited gaze. “Oh? Like the way you rallied those drug peddling thugs at the Crimson Ox’s head into a fiery conflagration?” She reminded him, smile fixed.

“That was different,” He quickly sputtered. “Crawley’s too small for a gang like this! I can see it now, Evie! One group operating under a King and Queen of London! Well, metaphorical King and Queen, that is.” He waved off her stoic glare. “Just the two of us, the stern but trusting leader of the gang and his woman, stalwart and refined. Perfect!”

Evie blushed slightly, freckled cheeks bright against her fair skin. The absent thought that she wasn’t exactly refined was brushed aside as she snuck a glance at Henry, however besides a strange quirk of his brow the stranger hadn’t overly reacted to Jacob’s words. “And what’s the name of this would-be revolution, then?” She finally sighed, humouring her overly imaginative sibling.

Jacob rubbed at his chin, lifting a finger towards the sky as though declaring his will to the heavens. “We’ll call ourselves...” Unconsciously she leaned in. “...The Rooks!”

And just like that the moment was lost. “You’ve never been very good at chess, either!” She deadpanned.

Her brother pouted, an expression far too familiar. “Have you got a better plan, then?” He asked her petulantly.

“Find the Piece of Eden!” She blurted, arms akimbo in a lackadaisical shrug.

Immediately he rolled his eyes. “Ah...!” Was all he offered, imitating her gesture and stalking over to the edge of the roof. “Of course that’s your plan!” He huffed. “Just for that I’m making _your_ crown out of wood!”

“There will be no crowns!” She breathed in disbelief, pinching at the bridge of her nose to stave off her oncoming headache.

“Not with that attitude.” He mumbled just clearly enough for her to hear.

“Well!” Henry Green smiled, platitudinous to the extreme. “Let me show you the lay of the land, shall we?”

She and her brother glared at one another for all of two seconds before she caught his eyes wandering down to her neck, quickly glancing up to offer up a wink. “Unbelievable.” She murmured, unable to hold onto her annoyance in the wake of his, well... _Jacobness._

With a shit-eating grin he patted her on the rear, earning a startled gasp and an indignant look. “See you up top!” He called with a cackle.

“You- Get back here!” She cried, a disbelieving laugh welling up. “You cheeky sod!”

In trepidation she watched him climb ahead and unbidden the irritation at his antics melted into fondness, a thought drifting through her mind for the first time but certainly not the last and shocking her into a stunned silence. _‘I love that man.’_

“Are you coming!?” He called from halfway up the tower, drawing her from her shock.

“Y-Yes! Don’t think you’re getting away with _that!”_ She promised. _‘Oh, Evie, what have you gotten yourself into?’_

**END**


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: - I'm terrible at sex scenes, I feel; still, it wanted to be written, so here you go!

The battle for London had begun and it wasn’t long before things came to a head. The twin’s activities in liberating the borough quickly caught the attention of Rexford Kaylock, the gang leader of the Whitechapel Blighters.

Much as he no doubt would’ve loved to say it was a fight for the ages the truth of the matter was that in competition Kaylock was no match for Jacob and she’d scarcely followed him onto the roof of the train before the thug was over the edge, a new grin firmly etched into his neck.

And now they were based in a train, and she should have been planning their next move, however...

_‘What are you even doing, Evie Frye?’_ She pondered, gaze firmly locked on the window opposite and away from her shirtless brother.

“Enjoying the view?” Jacob piped up, timing his press-ups to the jolt of the train beneath them.

Evie rolled her eyes, glancing briefly at his form and catching the shimmer of sweat across his skin. “ _Rather_.” She murmured, huffing as he shot her a knowing look and quickly turning to gaze back out the window. “London is beautiful at night.” She covered.

“Mm.” Climbing to his feet, Jacob nodded. “That it is, Evie, that it is.”

His hand landed on her shoulder and her mind wandered over the previous events of the day, examining the taking of the train in detail. “It’s all going so _fast._ ” She mused, blushing as he buried his nose in her neck. “Jacob, will you please stop for just a moment?”

“What do you want me to say, Evie?” He shrugged. “We won, we have the train and the city is changing already. We have the Rooks!”

“Oh, not this again.” She drawled, crossing her arms and stepping away to lean against the carriage wall.

“Which makes me right and you...? Wrong, was it?” He ignored her glare, shooting her a crooked grin and taking a seat. “Isn’t that a first?”

His sister swore under her breath, looking away with a stubborn grimace. “So maybe you had a good idea for once.” She finally admitted.

“Thank you!” He crowed, shooting back up and leaning in. “Humility is a good look on you.” He teased. His breath was warm against her and the lithe Assassin dimly noted the gleam of sweat on his skin, thick hair sticking to tanned muscle as he reached out to caress her waist. “See something you like?”

Evie’s lashes fluttered, gloved hands slowly rising to his chest and marveling at the taut muscle against her palms. The young woman avoided his piercing stare, instead allowing her gaze to roam over the corded strength running beneath his rough, scarred skin. “Maybe. I’d need a closer look to be sure.”

_“Evie Frye,_ ” He purred, tapping her chin with a finger and forcing her to meet his eyes. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

A short chuckle escaped her, breathy as she swallowed nervously. Despite previous behaviour the more responsible of the two had been intent on ensuring that they didn’t go too far, staying firmly away from the boundary that would send them plummeting into something undeniably _intimate._ “You’re the shirtless one here, brother dear.” She pointed out.

As the week had gone by they had steadily been approaching this point, growing closer and closer to the moment that everything became all too real. “I could fix that.” He offered, flicking open the top clasp on her coat with a grin.

Evie bit her lower lip, scanning his features for any sign of duplicity and finding only the same lust she’d been experiencing ever since that one morning that seemed so much more distant than it truly was. “Maybe I’d like that.” She returned, usual confidence shaken by the wanton stare and replaced with something that licked persistently at her senses.

“ _Ms. Frye, are you there?”_

As quickly as they had begun the two drew apart, equal expressions of surprise drawing across their faces. “...I think it’s for you.” Jacob jabbed, cracking a weary smirk and turning away to examine Kaylock’s grappling gun.

“Jacob-“ “Ah, Ms. Frye.” Her gaze fell on the bookish Indian man as he stepped into the carriage and she sighed wistfully, resisting the urge to strike. _‘It’s not his fault, Evie.’_ She reminded herself, nodding slightly in greeting. “I’ve got the maps you requested.”

As he set the stack of papers onto the table she caught Jacob’s eye, catching the glint of jealousy that flitted across his faux-distracted visage. _“We’ll continue this later.”_ She mouthed, smiling as his sour face lit up in interest, fingers fumbling around the trigger of the gun. “Right then,” She started. “Our first plan of action is to... Jacob, this is serious?”

Jacob’s eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced up at her, absently spinning the contraption around a finger. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere until we get this fixed.”

A moment’s paused and Evie slowly sighed.

-X- -X-

“I can’t believe you.” She spoke as they walked away from Bell’s abode. “Just had to find some way to embarrass me, hm?” Despite her words there was a certain jaunt to her tone that she knew he wouldn’t fail to catch.

Sure enough Jacob shot her a look, tapping his nose and raising an eyebrow. “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re just as happy as I am, sister dear. Grappling guns!” His grin took a decidedly wolfish cast as he looked around, basking in the audience that she knew he was imagining. “Things just got a whole lot easier!”

“Mm.” She conceded. “Maybe it wasn’t a totally worthless endeavour.”

_“See,_ I knew you’d come around!” He crowed.

With a huff Evie shook her head, pointedly looking away in the face of his foolhardy glee and turning her attention to more pressing matters. “Anyway, now that we have your childish pursuits firmly in hand, shall we-?”

“Yes!” He blurted, brightening even further somehow as he cut across her. “Absolutely, let’s continue where we left off.”

His twin blinked, turning back to him and pointedly sticking her nose in the air at his perverse leer. “Romance is a baffling concept to you, isn’t it Jacob?” She voiced vindictively, suppressing a laugh as he pouted at her in response.

“Evie,” He began, leaning in. “When all is said and done we’ll have London; I’ll have the Rooks and the city and you, and you’ll have the Rooks and the city and me.” He breathed against her neck, ignoring the disapproving looks being shot their way. “I can’t think of a single thing I could give you to match that.”

His sister considered his words earnestly, swallowing as he buried his nose against the nape of her neck and reluctantly pulling away when it occurred to her just how public they were. “Flowers would be nice.” She teased weakly.

“I’ll buy you a bloody greenhouse.” He grunted, shuffling as she moved away. “If only we’d not be interrupted.”

Licking her lips, Evie met his eyes. “Well, when you put it like that I can hardly say no, now can I?” She purred. “To the train then, Jacob.”

“I-“ Before he could respond Evie spun, shooting towards the nearby rooftop with her grappling gun and grinning as she shot away. _“You cheeky minx!”_ His outraged call met her ears and she laughed, savouring the burst of air that buffeted her and waving down at him from her position.

The two Assassins raced through the city with their new devices, gleefully enjoying the trip in a way they hadn’t experienced since childhood.

“I can’t believe-“ Jacob paused, gasping for breath as he came to a stop beside her. “-How _amazing_ these things are! Best thing I’ve ever done, liberating these!” He crowed.

Evie rolled her eyes, lowering herself from the rooftop and taking the leap towards the moving train. “I’m glad you’re pleased, Jacob!” She called as he fell onto the metal roof behind her, hurriedly hopping down into the carriage and smirking as he trailed in after.

Harsh hands fell to her waist, pulling her back in a warm embrace. _“Very pleased.”_ He breathed in her ear, clutching just the slightest bit tighter and earning a shuddering sigh for his efforts. “God, Evie. You drive me mad.”

His body felt hard against her skin, strong leathers and ragged fabrics doing nothing to hide the rising stiffness she could feel against her lower back. “ _Glad to hear it.”_ She gasped, shaking slightly as his calloused palms ran beneath her coat.

With a grunt Jacob moved, grasping her tight and pulling her into his lap as they fell back onto his seat-cum-bed. “Jacob, if Agnes-“

“Right, right.” He groaned, refusing to release her but allowing her the wiggle room to escape if she so needed.

Evie bit her lower lip, craning her head to spy her twin’s flushed face, tan skin and thin scars failing to hide the almost vulnerable lilt of his features. “Not here.” She decided quickly, grabbing at his grasping fingers and spinning to stumble away with a graceless step unlike her usual movements. “My carriage-“

“Say no more!”

The words were blurted with a desperate speed and she laughed as he stood, scooping her up in a bridal carry and rushing down the length of the train. “Careful!” She chided half-heartedly as he moved into her room and dumped her on the unmade bed. “Jacob!” She squawked.

Her brother turned his fervent stare to the doorway, pulling the drapes separating the carriages closed and grinning widely as he shut the door and turned to her. “Where were we?”

He seemed taller as he loomed over her, like some figure out of one of those terrible romances she’d once found in a drug peddler’s desk. _‘“Large as sin, and twice as thick”.’_ The phrase echoed in her head and despite the terrible purple prose she felt a shiver run through her, somehow trailing up her body yet gathering between her thighs all in one haze-inducing moment. Maybe she’d been hasty to toss the book?

“Nervous, Evie?” He voiced cockily as he sank down beside her, tossing those tatty cotton gloves across the room and running his rough hands once more across her body.

His fingers paused as they reached her waist and she could see the tense set of his shoulders, the hesitant shake in the digits and the wary glimmer in his eyes. With a huff she sat up, pushing him over into the bed and trying for a smirk to hide her jittery emotions. “Hardly.” She scoffed, reaching down to tear at the layers separating them and smiling as course, thick hair greeted her, smooth yet decidedly _masculine_ in a way that just screamed Jacob.

She was sure that if she grabbed that coat of his she’d find tobacco or a pipe or some such in there, however before she could explore her suspicions she found herself distracted, a flex bringing her attention to the... _Protrusion_ beneath her. “Oh, _my. Jacob,_ ” She gasped, brushing off the half-formed thoughts and gently lowering herself down his front. Wide pectorals gave way to a solid abdomen and she gently leaned in to kiss at the trail leading down into his trousers. “Is this for me?” She asked softly, fingers trailing away from the arrow of hair down to his thighs and pushing them apart to make room.

_“Jesus.”_ He marvelled as she settled onto her knees, a figure of seductive supplication so unlike his Evie that he could scarcely believe this was really happen. “Did I die?” He voiced sharply, fingers threading in her dark locks as her grip tightened on his member, smooth digits digging into the rumpled fabric to grab him and reveal him to the light trickling in through the curtains. “Evie, did I die and go to heaven?” He clarified as she raised an eyebrow.

She chuckled, shaking her head in amusement and reaffirming the realness of the situation with a small squeeze. “You are most definitely alive, _brother dearest._ ” She purred, gaze flicking between his enraptured expression and his twitching member. “Pumping blood and all.”

For a moment she examined him, taking in every detail and wetting her lips, but the moment passed soon enough and a coy smile alighted itself across her face, mischievous blue eyes flitting back to his stunned visage.

Jacob swallowed as she lowered her head, flicking her tongue along the head of his cock with her stare firmly affixed to his own. “Bloody hell.” He murmured as she gently kissed the tip, swirling her tongue and going deeper still. _“Bloody hell!”_ His hands left her hair, dropping to the thin bedding sharply and gripping the covers with a grunt. “Jesus, _Evie.”_

She would have made a witty quip were she not using her mouth for other things, however the act she was engaging in didn’t prevent her from winking cheekily, somehow exciting him further. With a groan he pulled back, waving her off to her great confusion. “Jacob, what-?” Her answer came as he pushed her back by the shoulders, grasping her belt and pulling it free swiftly and suddenly. “Jacob!”

The thought that she should stop this, that it was too sudden and they weren’t prepared, crossed her mind, however as his stubble brushed her now-bare thigh she found she _really_ didn’t want to be the responsible one right now. In fact, that sounded like just about the worst course of action she could possibly take.

His grip was tight on her thighs as he moved in, delicately pulling away her undergarments and tensing in amazement. “Evie, you- I-“

“ _Eloquent as always.”_ She half-chuckled, breath hitching as his thumb gently flicked the small nub searchingly, running across her skin before, with a small gasp, he inserted a finger. “O-Oh-!”

Despite the situation Jacob grinned, watching her features warp and twist beneath his administrations. “Well, at least I know how to get you to shut up now, hm?”

“ _Jacob_!” Evie chose to ignore the remark, instead basking in the sensations of her twin’s administrations for all that she could. “Jacob!” She moaned, arching her back to reach out for the skewed lapel of his coat and drag him further up. “P-Please!”

“Who could say no to that?” He whispered in awe, scanning her face with pure want written in his every feature. He twitched and throbbed against her and as Evie jerked her hips he shook slightly, grasping her close and moving to pin her beneath him. “Are you... Sure?” He gasped, sweat dripping down his neck as she writhed beneath him.

The lithe Assassin stilled herself, forcing the motion with every ounce of self-restraint and meeting his wondrous stare with hunger. “ _Yes, just- please, do it!”_

He’d never had this kind of control over her and the brute found himself exploring her every minute twitch with an attention to detail he seldom displayed. “Fuck.” He finally blurted, gently thrusting forward and jolting. _“Oh, fuuuuuck!”_

Evie’s eyebrows rose in an expressive arch, lips parting as she lifted her head and desperately he thrust once more, practicing the motion carefully and relaxing when she didn’t complain or try to stop him. “L-Like that, Jacob! Oh, just like that!” His hips began to pick up speed and quietly he grunted into the barely exposed hollow of her neck, sweat-slicked skin and dank hair failing to distract the ordinarily perfidious woman from the oncoming sensations. “Oh, I-I’m going to- This is- Ah!”

Strong, well trained arms tightened around his torso, holding him tight and the young man barely managed a warning, corded muscle tensing against her chest as he approached his climax. “E-Evie, I’m going to-!” Even as the warning came he knew it was too late and so he pushed, barely pulling out in time and spending himself across her stomach sporadically. “Oh, shit.” He cursed, going limp against her chest and burying his face in the fine material of her coat.

Full pink lips quirked into a smile, glossy and half-formed as she tried to gather her energy. “Jacob,” She muttered quietly, pushing lazily at his shoulders. “We’ve got to get dressed before Agnes or Mr. Green return.”

Her brother raised his head from her collar, pouting as she wiped at his face with a napkin from the table. “Alright.” He finally sighed, dragging himself to his feet and wincing at the smattering of white across the front of her clothing. “Sorry, I-“

“It’s fine.” She interrupted with a raised hand, sitting up and wiping away the substance with a couple of swift swipes. “I don’t mind.”

Jacob gulped, blinking as she tossed the napkin and nodding. “No regrets?” He queried in a soft voice unlike his usual boisterous tones.

“No regrets.” She confirmed, smile widening as he grinned boyishly.

They were still grinning like fools half an hour later when Agnes returned to the train.


End file.
